Of All the Gin Joints
by AngelQueen
Summary: It wasn't random chance that led Obi-Wan and Anakin to that particular nightclub in pursuit of the assassin. Set during AotC.


_Of All the Gin Joints_  
By AngelQueen

 **Disclaimer:** _Star Wars_ and _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

It struck him the moment he entered the nightclub, his apprentice trotting along at his heels. Oh, there was everything one should expect in such a den of inequity – the scent of alcohol, smoke, sweat, and abandon – but in this place there was something _more_. He might attribute the sensation to the excitement of the chase he had just partaken in, except that it did not appear to match the feeling he had gained from the assassin he had been pursuing. He – or was it she as Anakin supposed? – had the feeling of desperation, of flight.

This… this was different. It was watchful, wary, waiting. It seemed to be staring at him, aware of him and his nature, but did not threaten or feel threatened in return. If he did not know better, he would think that a large predator was observing and acknowledging him without any interest in pursuing him.

Obi-Wan shook his head. There was no point in fixating on the sensation. If the Force deemed it important, then it would guide him along the correct path.

"Be extra careful," he ordered, gesturing toward the crowds of revelers. He turned away from them, having a different destination in mind.

"Where are you going?" Anakin asked him.

Obi-Wan didn't turn a hair. "To get a drink."

He felt a flicker of surprise come from his Padawan, but thankfully, he did not question him, just departed to carry out his own search for their illusive quarry.

Approaching an empty spot at the bar, Obi-Wan signaled the bartender to bring him a drink. Though he had never been in this particular establishment, it took only a glance at the various bottled refreshments to see that the bar catered to a variety of species. The crowds also spoke of the place's popularity, which allowed him to suppose that the staff were competent enough to bring him something that wouldn't completely annihilate his system. A dead customer was bad for business, after all.

* * *

She sensed them both the moment they entered the club. Though she never went out of her way to interact with Jedi, it was impossible to avoid them entirely. Mostly, she saw the Padawans who liked to sneak out of their Temple to explore the seedier side of Coruscant, most of them never noticing the Knights and even the occasional Master who shadowed them discreetly. She maintained her distance, and so far as she could tell, they never seemed to sense her.

These two, though… they were different. The younger one radiated power, wore it openly, arrogantly. That one was just asking for a beat down, and she didn't doubt that he'd get it, sooner or later. People that conceited always got what was coming to them, one way or another.

No, it was the older one that was much more interesting. This one was powerful, though not like the other. There was a seasoned feel about him, sharp and alert, but he wore it quietly, patiently. He was infinitely more dangerous than the boy.

She should back away, retreat until they inevitably gave up. She had no desire to be caught, or to have her associates caught up in the webs of the Jedi. But she didn't. Instead, she waited. She watched.

* * *

Obi-Wan barely spared the dealer a glance before he sent him on his way with the implanted suggestion of rethinking his life. He had scant faith that it would do any good in the long run, but it served the purpose of removing the being's repugnant scent from the area.

He picked up the glass the bartender had provided and tossed its contents back with one gulp. Correllian whiskey, he quickly deduced, excellent quality. Just the right amount of burn to go with his mood.

His gaze swept over the others who were standing at the bar, and he stretched out his senses, seeking. None of them seemed overly nervous or tense, as though they had something to hide. He swept further with the Force, still searching. Anakin's presence was like a beacon, as always, surrounded by the various denizens of the nightclub. No –

 _There_. He could feel it, drawing closer, tense, furtive, wary… determined, ruthless. His quarry as drawing closer.

Obi-Wan didn't flinch, didn't glance over his shoulder. Instead, signaled the bartender for a second shot of whiskey.

* * *

 _Oh, crap_. It was easy to see what was coming. It was the last thing she needed. The nightclub was huge on the social scene, the product of a huge amount of work, so the last thing she needed was a murder to muck everything up. She increased her pace, taking note when her security guy appeared out of nowhere – something he'd always been good at, and had become even more so in recent years.

She moved quickly through the crowd. The younger Jedi was still some distance away, though he too appeared to have noticed the coming badness. He wouldn't get there in time. As for the older one, she wouldn't put it past him to know what was coming, and was allowing it to happen. He was drawing his opponent into a trap.

A trap that would probably lead to blood and pain and body parts getting severed. That seemed to be a theme when people went up against Jedi.

Not this time.

* * *

Almost there, Obi-Wan thought. He could feel them. Just a little closer –

* * *

Almost there, she thought. She could see the blaster appearing in a gloved hand. She leaped forward –

* * *

Obi-Wan whirled, his lightsaber easily coming alive in his hand. It would only take a single swipe to disarm his would-be assassin –

It was only his finely honed instincts from years of training that kept him from taking a fair-haired head off instead of a killer's arm.

There were a few shocked cries from the crowd of beings around them, but Obi-Wan paid them little mind. Instead, he looked at the scene in front of him. The assassin he and his Padawan had been hunting lay on the floor just feet away, groaning and clutching at her arm, which lay limp at an extremely unnatural angle. Standing above her was a young woman with hair as light as Anakin's and of extremely short stature. At first glance, such a tiny girl shouldn't have seemed capable of taking out a being who had trained years to evade and kill.

At first glance, anyway. Obi-Wan made a point to look more deeply.

The woman had a hand clamped on the assassin's shoulder and her grip was obviously an excruciating one, if the pained expression of the downed bounty hunter was anything to go by. There was a strength in the woman's body, and it was quickly obvious that she had some training in how to handle herself in a fight. Her stance, her balance, everything about how she carried herself revealed her as a warrior.

All this he saw in a matter of seconds, before the tableau was broken and she began to speak.

"Honestly, Z.W., how many times do I have to tell you? Leave the badness and the assassin-ing at the door! No killing once you get in here! Sheesh!"

Obi-Wan blinked at the young woman's strange, light-hearted speech. She had just prevented an attempted murder and she chose to scold the culprit like an errant youngling? He opened his mouth, ready to intercede so that he might take the assassin into custody, when Anakin appeared at his side.

"Are you all right, Master?" he asked, his expression full of alarm.

Obi-Wan nodded. "Fine, Padawan. Apparently, we had some unexpected assistance in apprehending our quarry," he replied.

Speaking up drew the young woman's attention and she turned toward him, though she did not take her hand off the assassin's shoulder. As their eyes met, something in Obi-Wan froze. There, that was it, the presence he had sensed when he and Anakin had first come into the nightclub, the predator that seemed to take note of them but did not engage.

 _Bloody hell_ , he thought, almost dazed. _Who would have thought such power rested in someone so…_

He didn't get a chance to complete the thought as the moment ended as quickly as it began when she returned her attention to the assassin. "Oz," she said, "give me a hand with Z.W., wouldja? Let's get this taken care of before the next band's set starts. I've heard them practicing and I really want to see them play tonight."

Oz was a young man with closely cropped red hair and a lithe body that also spoke of a mysterious strength. His tone was calm and amused as he replied, "Sure thing, Buffy." He moved without hesitation to the assassin's other side and grabbed her underneath her undamaged arm, helping his companion – Buffy? Such an… unusual name – lift her up.

"Wait," Anakin stepped forward, protesting, "this is Jedi business –"

"This is my club, Boy Band," the young woman, no, _Buffy_ , cut him off. She barely spared him a glance. "What happens here is _my_ business, unless I decide it needs to be handled by the boys in blue or whatever."

"But –"

"Eh!" She held up her free hand, again cutting Anakin off.

Frustrated, Anakin turned back to Obi-Wan, who had remained silent, watching the exchange. "Master," he hissed, "we need her, or we'll never find out who is behind the attack on Padmé!"

It was true, the assassin was their best and only lead, but Obi-Wan had run enough investigations over the years to know when patience was required. His Padawan had yet to learn that lesson even after ten years, and given that Senator Amidala was involved this time around, he had a feeling that Anakin would probably not be learning it now. He sighed inwardly.

"Yo, Red, Boy Band! You coming, or are you going to stand there? I charge people for taking up space around here, you know."

Obi-Wan's gaze returned to Buffy. She and Oz had moved off a few feet, the assassin held firmly between them. The denizens had stepped back, giving them a wide, respectful distance, but she was paying no attention to them. Instead, her eyes were fixed on Obi-Wan, a challenging glint in them.

Normally, he didn't bother with such things, but this time? It felt right. Mustering an ironic smile, he bowed his head. "As you wish, milady."

Oz snorted quietly, and Buffy rolled her eyes before turning to lead them all out of the main areas of the club. Obi-Wan stepped away from the bar to follow, Anakin falling in-step beside him.

"Master," he said quietly, "what does 'boy band' mean?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "I have no idea, Padawan. I imagine we'll find out at some point."

* * *

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